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Letters From Little Rock |
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a semi-regular column
Letters From Little Rock is my column on whatever topic strikes my fancy at the time. Check in as often as you like, but I make no promise as to when new columns will appear. I hope to add a column on a weekly basis, but honesty compels me to admit that I might not even maintain a monthly schedule. March 27, 2004 I remarked upon the uselessness of Classmates.com in an earlier missive. Rather than merely lament the long record of missed opportunities on that site, a friend of mine, Hawgwyld, and I have begun an MSN group for our high school alumni. So far we only have about 12 members and we've already had one guy quit our little group, but it's been worth the effort. One email from an old running buddy of mine remarked that Hawgwyld and I were two of the most antisocial people he ever met so it seemed odd that we'd host a site of that sort. I suppose it's not too unusual though, for a fellow to start looking back and making comparisons at around our age. I guess the twenties are everyone's prodigal years. Makes sense that the thirties are the years of homecoming. I guess in the ways of the world I don't stack up too favorably with some of my classmates. I have only good wishes for the old gang and nothing but admiration for their successes, but there is a touch of something that isn't quite envy that gives me a twinge when I hear about their travels and see the photos of the families they're raising. I guess it's a longing for a time when I still had more options open to me. Or maybe it's that old road-not-taken-angst that's getting to me. I've pretty well stayed at home and really don't have so much to show for it. But then I stop and think about how many folks out there probably wish they could have followed their creative impulse without encumbrance and I have been able to do that. It gets back to my old work versus employment dichotomy. I believe everyone should keep in mind that the work of living and dying has nothing to do with the vocation that brings home the bacon. It's not that all gainful employment is soul-destroying drudge work, but most days most people have to emend the mandate of their soul's desires if they intend to remain employed. I'm a firm believer in the right to play hooky from work anytime the spirit moves me, but most days I fight the urge and go on in. And yet some rainy-day-should-have-stayed-in-bed-morning I'll listen to that urge and let myself curl back in the sheets and feel absolutely no remorse about the work that isn't getting done at my job, because the work that is going on in my soul is so much more important. Even when at work it strikes me as important to remember that it is all just monkey work. I guess that's one part rationalization and one part philosophy. I hope life is more than merely justifying your existence, but I do believe in an original debt. I don't believe in original sin, but original debt is part of what makes us human. It's not so much the debt to life as the debt of life. We've probably all reiterated the "I didn't ask to be born" argument somewhere down the line, but how many of us stop to think about the actual implication of that statement. I didn't ask to be born. You didn't ask to be born. And yet, here we are. If it's a gift out of the blue-and it is-we should try to be worthy of it. That's the side of life that's important, not the things I can gather to my name. It is hard sometimes to remember that when I see my old friends' successes and find myself adding up the score. I guess it would be nice to live in a better house and have a lot of stories to tell about adventures in foreign parts, but on the other hand there is a stack of notebooks I've filled with the record of my work. I may never repay the debt of life but I have tried.
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